Quiver
by a practice in poetry
Summary: Shell-shocked and with half-lidded eyes, Quinn gently traced her thumb down the skin of Rachel's neck, as though relishing her softness.  Then, with a trembling voice, she breathed out a quiet, "God." before moving to kiss her again.  Faberry, post-NBK.


_Quiver_

On that particular Tuesday morning, everything was –for all intents and purposes – quite normal.

Karofsky once again shoved Kurt forcefully into a locker as he walked by. Rachel received her hello kiss from Finn and heard Santana pretend to gag in the background. Puck, having recently been swept away by Artie's good influence, _wasn't_ tossing any wandering creeps, freaks, and geeks like Jacob Ben Israel into their school's resident dumpsters. Artie himself was, meanwhile, staring in Brittany's direction while she chatted animatedly with Mike and Tina, who were nodding politely at whatever the Dutch girl was telling them.

Somewhere down the hall were Sam and Quinn, looking sweet and sickeningly cute as they smiled at each other by the female blonde's locker. Rachel frowned in their direction, feeling surprisingly bitter at the sight.

_Perfectly blonde wonder twins…_, she thought rather uncharitably, before chastising herself.

Like it was any of her business whom Quinn dated. It wasn't like she cared, and anyway, why should she? The other girl had made her life absolutely miserable during their formative high school years. But still, recently, Quinn had been nice to her. And besides, it wasn't like Rachel was the type to hold grudges, even when she had valid reasons to.

She shook the thoughts away as she and Finn walked hand in hand to their first class. She tuned in to find him talking to her about some zombie he'd killed the night before on some XBOX game called Call of Nazis: Zombies at War, or something like that. Rachel nodded along even though she wasn't really interested, because he tended to do the same thing for her when she was excited about Broadway. It was still astonishing to her how little they actually had in common. It shouldn't have been, since there had been signs all over the place long before they'd started dating, but it was. She supposed her infatuation with him had blinded her in that regard.

Either way, the fact of the matter was that this morning wasn't anything out of the norm. These things tended to happen day after day, and they'd become quite routine to her. In fact, when they were halfway to the far end of the hallway, Rachel mentally prepared herself for the small moment of silent, mutual acknowledgement she and Quinn had become accustomed to having every morning since the school year had started.

Quinn tended to nod at her whenever they passed by each other, and Rachel would return the gesture. Initially, she had only done it out of politeness, but as the days had gone by, she'd come to value the small moment. Even a nod from Quinn Fabray was something rare, and Rachel wasn't stupid enough to turn it down. A nod meant at least some small measure of respect, and really, after everything that had happened, the brunette was willing to accept whatever kindness the blonde's wicked pride allowed.

So, in all honesty, Rachel wasn't prepared for the return of that frosty stare. She wasn't prepared to see the steel within those beautiful hazel eyes. That unforgiving judgment.

Without warning, Quinn purposefully shoved past her, and Rachel staggered sideways in surprise. Finn caught her nimbly, suddenly seeming tense and quite uncertain, as though he couldn't really believe what he was seeing.

Quinn hadn't been cruel to her in months. _Months._ Just last week, Rachel had thought they'd come to a sort of truce. 'You respect my space, I'll respect yours.' The blonde had been nice to her, and had let her have the last salad available in the cafeteria. She'd even said, "Here. Take it. There's nothing else for you to eat if you want to stay vegan."

Rachel had replied with a soft, "Thank you, Quinn. That's very nice of you."

Their eyes met, for only a second, before the blonde turned and walked away without sparing her a second glance. Still, she'd been nice to Rachel. It had been an incredibly thoughtful gesture that she doubted Finn could even partially recreate without sufficient prompting.

So why in the world was Quinn Fabray shoving her in the hallway as though the steps they'd taken forward meant absolutely nothing to her?

As the shock wore off and the four of them, including Sam, stared at each other in the middle of the crowded hallway, Rachel found herself feeling more than a little nauseous.

_What is this? _she thought, _Why would she do this again?_

But Quinn, not a mind reader and at this moment seeming very apathetic as to what Rachel wanted to know, only glared at her and hissed, "Watch where you're going, RuPaul."

The 'nickname' struck her like a slap. Rachel nearly flinched at the sound of it.

_It hurts more because I haven't heard it in a while. It hurts more because I let my guard down. It hurts more because I thought we were somewhat closer to becoming friends. _

Sam seemed surprised and a little uneasy in his spot beside Quinn, whose own expression remained unchanging. Rachel felt Finn shift to stand a little closer to her and, as he grew tense, she realized he was just as taken aback as she was.

"Hey," he said, fumbling for the right words, "Don't say things like that. Rachel's really awesome, and she doesn't deserve it."

Feeling strangely hurt by Quinn's words, but pleased by Finn's defense of her, the small brunette briefly turned her head to shoot him a well deserved smile. Then, as she looked back at the girl who had just been nice to her the previous week with a thoughtful gesture and a handy salad, her expression transformed into something strangely betrayed. A bizarre pain stole across her chest, making her feel terribly _wounded_.

And something must have shown in her expression because Quinn's eyes softened, though her words, her actions, and her posture did not.

"Shut up, Finn." she told him, and he did so promptly, "This is between me and treasure trail." She glared at the small brunette, whose heart at that moment felt as though it had been hacked open by a particularly sharp nail. "What makes you think I want to see your hideous face this early in the morning? Are you trying to make me throw up?" She scoffed and turned away. "Come on, Sam."

The blonde boy, apparently only recently acquainted with the bitch monster side of Quinn Fabray, gaped after her. Then, he briefly looked at Rachel, and mumbled an awkward, "I'm sorry." after which he hurried along after his girlfriend.

Meanwhile, Rachel felt absolutely destroyed. She stood in quiet, crippling, utterly surprising anguish, staring at the spot Quinn had just vacated.

Finn squeezed her hand uncertainly.

"Rach…" he called softly, "…are you okay?"

She started, and was surprised to find her eyes were watery.

"Yes, Finn." she replied, as she rapidly moved to wipe her eyes, "I'm okay. I was just surprised. She hasn't done that in a while, and I…I wasn't expecting it."

While the last bit was honest and at the same time the understatement of the century, the first bit was a lie. And a bad one, at that. She wasn't "fine". She wasn't "fine" at all.

She felt…so…_hurt_.

Where had the girl with the salad and the sweet gesture gone? Where was the Quinn who'd helped her make sure Finn really liked her? Where was that girl? The girl who sometimes said mildly aggressive comments, who was strangely endearing and charming through her use of wit?

And now again, that monster?

Rachel shook her head.

No. There was just no way. She wasn't going to let the potential friend she'd glimpsed from a distance get away from her. After all, she was certain she hadn't imagined the softness, the regret in Quinn's eyes as she'd said the things she had.

God, there was no way Rachel was just going to roll over and die and let the things that happened last year, and the year before that, happen all over again. She wasn't letting Quinn's sweetest side get away from her just like that. She wasn't going to let her get away with it.

(She also wasn't about to risk another pregnancy, since she'd be damned if there hadn't been enough baby drama the year before.)

* * *

"Okay, man hands. This is getting creepy. I never pegged you for a stalker."

Rachel jumped, startled, from her hiding spot behind the car. Quinn raised an eyebrow at her behavior, clearly unimpressed.

"How did you even know I was there?" the brunette asked incredulously, "I was perfectly hidden."

The blonde shrugged. "Magic." she drawled sarcastically, "Though if that were actually the case, you'd have stopped existing ages ago."

Rachel ignored her. "Well?" she insisted, "What did I do wrong?"

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Since I highly doubt you'll be successful no matter how many times you try it, I'll answer honestly. You're the master of subtlety. To be completely honest," she continued, clearly mocking, "I have no idea how you could have failed. I guess I really do have a sixth sense."

"I don't appreciate your sarcasm, Quinn." Rachel answered flatly, mildly annoyed.

"And I don't appreciate your argyle sweaters." the blonde retorted, "I don't see you doing anything about that."

Rachel stared at her. She stared at her for so long that Quinn shifted, growing edgier and edgier as the seconds ticked by. Finally, she uncrossed her arms and let them drop down limply at her sides.

"What do you _want_, Berry?" she asked, and Rachel thought there was something incredibly odd about the whole exchange, but her compulsive need to answer the question distracted her from pinpointing what.

"Answers."

Quinn sighed impatiently, shifting again. "To _what_?"

Rachel unexpectedly stepped closer, pinning Quinn with a painfully honest gaze. She was hurt, and confused, and it showed.

"Why are you being cruel to me again?" Her voice was soft, subdued.

She felt so small there, standing in the sun in the middle of the parking lot, waiting for Quinn Fabray to reply.

The blonde's clever hazel eyes narrowed against what Rachel perceived to be a tide of guilt. Or at least, that's what she hoped it was.

"I hate you." the girl replied flatly, "What other reason is there?"

But she wavered. Halfway through the words, Quinn's voice wavered and Rachel caught it.

She stood there, her body suddenly ramrod straight. A smile blossomed across her face, strangely triumphant in nature, and she held her head high in response to her sudden delight. She jabbed an accusing finger straight at Quinn's chest, feeling only slightly guilty when the other girl had to shift in order to maintain her footing.

"You don't hate me." she stated confidently, "If you ever did, you don't anymore. I can tell that you don't, Quinn, and you may not like it, but I'm _sure_ you even _like_ me. You've been extremely nice to me these last few weeks, with absolutely no reason to be, and this…lapse, or whatever this is, can't distract me from that."

All throughout her short rant, Quinn's expression remained a perfect mix of boredom and incredulity. Now, however, it changed into something slightly more predatory, and more than a little angry.

The blonde surged forward unexpectedly, making Rachel stagger backwards into another car. Before she knew it she was pinned there, chest to chest and hip to hip with Quinn Fabray, who glared at her so fiercely it made a tendril of fear spike straight through her. And though it was rather frightening, Rachel couldn't help but notice how pale the other girl's skin was, how soft it looked, how delicate and beautiful her eyes were. She was fascinated by the curves of Quinn's eyelashes, by the length of them, by the way they cast small shadows across the girl's skin.

Her heart pounded in place, her breathing suddenly coming in quiet, shallow strokes. As the blonde looked at her with an intensity she'd never seen before, Rachel forgot how to breathe.

Quinn's hands pressed against the car on either side of the brunette's shoulders as she leaned even closer.

"Listen here, treasure trail, and listen well." she hissed softly, and Rachel quivered involuntarily at the sound of her voice. "I-"

And the blonde must have felt it, because she paused momentarily, her eyes widening the slightest of fractions. Then she looked down briefly before her gaze darted up again, and if Rachel hadn't known any better, she'd have thought Quinn was looking at her lips. But that was impossible, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

The blonde exhaled sharply and backed away. She seemed unsettled and disoriented, and shook her head as though she was trying to clear it. She then gestured in Rachel's direction, looking more than a little agitated.

"You keep your man hands away from me, Berry." she spat fiercely, "And stop with the stalking. I don't need people to start talking about your freakish obsession with me."

Rachel's daze cleared. In its place rose hot, rigid incredulity that could have easily been confused for outrage. Or maybe it was outrage confused for incredulity. She wasn't sure, and she didn't really care.

"_My_ obsession with _you_?" she asked angrily, stepping forward, some part of her delighting in the way the blonde reflexively moved away from her, "Because _I'm_ the one who dedicated years of my life to making _you_ miserable? Because _I'm_ the one who used to spend _hours_ of my time sketching _pornographic pictures_ of you in the bathroom stalls?" At this, Quinn had the decency to look embarrassed. "Yes, Quinn. I'm _clearly_ the one with the 'freakish obsession'."

The blonde glared at her, her cheeks flushed with ire, before stepping forward and meeting her in the middle.

"_You're_ the one who's been staring at me all the time, lately!"

Rachel flushed because it was true. She had no idea what it meant, or why she'd been doing it, but she knew that it was true, and she knew she'd been caught with her hand inside the proverbial cookie jar.

"Well, I-" she cut herself off as something dawned on her. Looking at Quinn's flushed cheeks, at her panting, livid form, it dawned on her. "Quinn, you…" she began, before faltering.

"What?" the other girl snapped, "I _what_?"

Rachel narrowed her eyes at her. "You were looking back."

And then, like magic, Quinn was blushing. The sudden, rising redness of her cheeks completely startled Rachel. The sight left the brunette breathless, left her heart _hammering,_ left her marveling at the sudden storm emotion she found within those hazel eyes.

"I- what? That's ridiculous." she sputtered in response, "Why in the world would I ever look at you?"

The brunette stomped her foot. "You _had_ to have been looking, Quinn, to have noticed my staring! Don't play stupid!"

Furious, Quinn pushed her away.

"Shut up!" she growled, "I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you!" She stomped away, her movements surprisingly jerky. "Leave me alone, man hands! I won't tell you again."

Before she knew what she was saying, Rachel was shouting, "_You're_ the one who won't leave _me_ alone!"

And it was true, but still. She should have kept her mouth shut. Something in her, though, didn't want to leave things as they were. Something in her wanted to find out why she was suddenly feeling the urge to look at Quinn for hours on end, to touch her hair, to…to _kiss_ her. Something in her wanted to know why the sight of the blonde's flushed cheeks made her want to get _closer, _ever closer, to never, ever move away.

She trembled with the force of that desire, and as Quinn whirled around, leaning forward in her fury, she found it was almost unbearable. What would it be like to take that risk? What would it feel like to kiss her?

It was that way, with her heart beating rapidly against her ribcage, that Rachel realized she desperately wanted to know.

"Well, RuPaul, maybe it would be easier to ignore you if you stopped trying your hardest to be so obnoxious!"

It stung, but she should have been expecting it.

She drew back in on herself, every bit of her shaking as the blonde straightened up, her head held high in response to that apparently insurmountable pride. They glared at each other, both of them trembling violently, and Rachel didn't think she'd ever seen Quinn look so out of control. She'd never seen her so terribly emotional.

"Fine." she said tightly, the word coming out slightly garbled, "Just fine. Go away, Quinn. I think your wonder twin is looking for you."

Rachel briefly wondered where the bitterness was coming from, before realizing she really didn't care. She took a step back and started marching in the direction of the school. She didn't look back, even when Quinn rasped a very soft, pained sounding, "Rachel…"

It wasn't until the doors to the school closed behind her that she realized that was the first time Quinn had ever called her by her first name. Her stomach erupted in butterflies.

* * *

By the end of the week, she found herself willing to talk to Quinn again. There was just one problem, though.

Quinn really didn't want to talk to _her_.

Ever since the conversation, the blonde had made it her personal mission to torture Rachel at any given chance. The slushies had started all over again, though Rachel sort of got the feeling that this was the result of her own decision to start wearing her best argyle sweaters out of spite. (It hadn't been her most mature decision.)

However, the point of the matter was that Head Bitch In Charge Quinn had returned with a vengeance and there was nothing anyone could do to stop her. Of course, the fact that she and Sam had broken up the day after the conversation hadn't helped matters very much. It had made Quinn even angrier than she had been in the first place, and she had apparently decided that Rachel looked like the perfect punching bag.

Some odd weeks later, Rachel was about to explode. She didn't think she could take it anymore. Quinn was being so, sorely unreasonable that the brunette wasn't sure if she even wanted to talk to her anymore. She just wanted it to stop, because every time the blonde said something overtly cruel to her, it hurt like someone was repeatedly stabbing her with an ice pick.

On that particular day, Finn, tired of her fluctuating moods, said goodbye to her earlier than usual. He left to find Puck, who had recently taken to hanging out with Artie outside of school. They had apparently turned into best bros overnight and Finn was feeling a little left out.

Upset at him, at herself, and especially at Quinn Fabray, Rachel turned to her locker and placed the books she didn't need inside it. She then shut the lid and spun around, ready to buy herself lunch and eat it in the most isolated place she could find. She wasn't really in the right frame of mind to deal with people, and she didn't really want to indirectly insult anyone, as she was prone to doing when she was preoccupied. As she started walking toward the cafeteria, she spotted Karofsky as he rounded the corner, a slushie cup in hand. Her gait faltered.

He sneered at her.

When the slush made contact with her face, she had to suppress a gasp at the coldness of it. It was freezing and made her shiver, and to top it all off, it was cherry flavored. She clenched her hands and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to regain control over the façade she had managed to perfect while undergoing years of teasing. But, perhaps because she was already going through a period of high emotional stress, she found that she couldn't.

Tears stung at her eyes. Unwilling to give them all the satisfaction of seeing her cry, she turned and quickly pushed her way through the laughing crowd. She made her way over to the nearest restroom and made sure that the stalls were empty.

Once she was certain of it, she let her face crumple.

Why couldn't they ever give her a break?

The sound of the door opening alerted her to the presence of another person. She hurriedly composed herself, wanting to seem strong in the face of adversity. However, that mask came crashing down when she realized that Quinn Fabray was the one who had just walked in.

The blonde locked the door behind her and stepped forward, her face expressionless. She let her bag drop by the wall and then walked past Rachel in order to get to the paper towels.

"You should start washing that off." she told her quietly, and looked away when Rachel's eyes watered again. "It'll stain otherwise…"

Her tears spilled over despite her efforts to ward them off, but Quinn didn't stare at her. She only offered her a paper towel before gently placing her hand on the small of her back and leading her to the sinks. The blonde worked in silence, almost tender in the way she threaded her fingers through Rachel's hair, washing the bits that had gotten splashed. When it was done, she walked over to her bag and pulled out a clean, white towel.

"Isn't that for after your…" she wavered, before continuing, "…for after your cheerleading practice?"

The blonde paused momentarily before shaking her head. Her eyes were strangely muted, a muddled picture of gentleness and what Rachel thought was affection.

"It doesn't matter."

They were quiet again. Something a lot like love swelled in Rachel's chest when Quinn reached out with the towel to dry her hair. For the first time in a long while, she felt cared for. And it…it warmed her.

The intensity of the emotion made her tremble all the way to the tips of her fingers. Her lips quivered as they parted, the moisture on them seeming to shimmer in the bulb's light.

The blonde's movements slowed. Rachel's heart raced.

"Quinn…" she began, licking her lips as a result of her nervousness, "I…really…"

Someone banged on the door and the other girl pulled away as if burned.

"Who the hell's in there?" the person cried, and Rachel recognized the voice, "Unlock the door this instant! Sue Sylvester knows all, you little miscreants! Cease your activities at once!"

Quinn quickly made her way over to the door and unlocked it. The she beast that was Sue Sylvester stomped inside almost immediately, nearly shoving the head cheerleader aside. The older woman surveyed the scene with narrowed eyes.

"Q." she said suspiciously, "What's going on here? What are you doing with Celine?"

Rachel frowned as the warmth in the blonde's eyes receded, only to be replaced with frost.

"Just helping a teammate out, coach." she stated coldly, "You know, a loser from glee club. I-" she paused, as though struggling to get the words through. Sue's eyes narrowed even further. "…was just about to leave."

_No you weren't,_ Rachel wanted to argue, _You weren't about to leave. You were about to…you were going to-_

"All right, Q. I'll take your word for it." The woman stepped away, before giving Quinn a warning glance. "But if I find out you've been messing around behind my back, you'll be dropped from the top of the pyramid like a limp, rotting sack of potatoes. Got it?"

Quinn stared at her unflinchingly. "Got it."

And then, as soon as the door shut behind Sylvester, the frost receded. Now, the blonde only looked weary and sad, and she raised her right hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"I'm so tired of this…" she whispered, and Rachel wasn't sure if it had been said for her benefit but she heard it anyway.

She closed the space between them, the movement catching Quinn's eye. She turned her head to look at her, her face expressionless, and the brunette had to smile. She was tired, too, of all of this pretending.

"Thank you, Quinn." She placed a warm hand on the skin of the blonde's arm, and watched as the girl's breath caught audibly in her throat. "For helping me."

Hazel eyes softened. The barest traces of a gorgeous smile surfaced across that beautiful face.

Her heart clenched in response.

_How…_, she wondered, _did I ever fail to notice how beautiful her smile is?_

"You're welcome." she replied, her words sounding impossibly soft.

Then she shifted, and Rachel let her hand drop back down to her side. She watched as the other girl picked up her bag and moved away, as she glanced over her shoulder to briefly meet brown eyes before continuing through the door. Left there by herself to listen to the sounds of the crowded hallway, she trembled.

Something unspeakable rose within her, making her heart rate accelerate. Before she knew what she was doing, she surged forward, running after the only person who'd ever inspired such feelings within her. Everything she had ever felt before paled in comparison to this. Any misgivings she may have had were drowned out by the concept of motion; moving forward, leaning in- the possibility of that kiss.

She _wanted_ it, more than anything she had ever wanted in her life.

"Quinn!" she called, and people stared at her but she didn't care.

The only thing that mattered was that she couldn't see the girl. She couldn't see the girl, but she _needed_ her, and nothing was ever going to stop it. If she didn't do something now, she would regret it for the rest of her life and would surely spend her days submerged in maybes and might-have-beens. And she just couldn't deal with that.

She stalked her way over to a helpful looking freshman and asked him, in a tone that was bordering on wild, "Have you seen Quinn Fabray?"

The boy very nearly dropped his books in his anxiety.

"U-uhm," he stuttered, "I th-think she was going to the l-locker rooms."

"Thanks."

She moved past him like a Quinn-seeking missile, dodging incoming students and glaring at Jacob Ben Israel so fiercely he actually kept his distance. She turned the corner and spotted the door to the girls' locker room. Her heart thudding against her ribcage, she forced herself to move even faster.

Upon arrival, she pulled the door open and stepped inside, letting it shut quietly behind her. At first glance the place was empty, and for a moment, her heart seized with disappointment. Then she heard noise coming from farther back, and she jumped at the possibility.

The sight of Quinn fumbling around in her duffel bag was quite possibly the most beautiful she'd seen in a while.

She stepped closer, and her footsteps echoed. The object of her affections looked up in surprise.

"Oh," she started to say, before it registered whom she was talking to, "I thought…"

She trailed off.

Rachel smiled nervously, suddenly unable to find the courage that had propelled her to this moment. Her tongue felt swollen in her mouth. She was unexpectedly lacking in intelligent things to say. Quinn, meanwhile, looked like she felt the exact same way. She kept opening and closing her mouth as though wanting to say something but somehow being unable to.

"W-what are you doing here, Berry?" she finally managed, just barely pulling off her 'perpetually cool and composed' act.

Rachel saw right through it, and chalked it up to the other girl's poorly veiled nervousness.

And in the end, it was this weak attempt at malice that gave her the courage to step forward.

Quinn shifted in response, straightening in a knee-jerk reaction. She looked sorely uneasy. It was as though she wanted to back away from the brunette's advancing figure but couldn't find it in her heart to do so. It made Rachel smile a trembling, painfully anxious smile.

"Wait." the girl called, but the brunette's ears had gone deaf. "W-what are you doing?"

And then, in less than a second, Rachel was right in front of her, looking up at her through dark lashes. Her hands rose, quivered in the air as they moved to land upon Quinn's cheeks, tenderly stroking the skin there. Her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of the blonde's suddenly dilated pupils.

"I like you." she told her honestly, and the blonde's eyes widened, but only a fraction.

Then she leaned up with her accelerated heartbeat, and she paused. Her whole body trembled as she breathed in Quinn's air.

"I need you to meet me halfway." she whispered shakily, "Because it won't matter otherwise."

The other girl trembled beneath her hands. Her eyes glistened with what Rachel could feel in her own chest, with that almost crippling emotion.

And then, after a moment's hesitation, Quinn hesitantly leaned down to meet her.

She tasted like fresh green apples, sweet and addictive. Perfect.

The chasteness of the moment sent tendrils of warmth shooting down her spine, all the way down to her toes. She had never been the recipient of a kiss quite so tender.

As she pulled away, Rachel thought that she had never been quite so in love before, either.

Shell-shocked and with half-lidded eyes, Quinn gently traced her thumb down the skin of Rachel's neck, as though relishing the softness. Then, with a trembling voice, she breathed out a quiet, "_God_." before moving forward again and meeting the brunette once more.

* * *

Minutes later found them panting and out of breath, Quinn breathing harshly against the pretty curve of Rachel's neck. She held the smaller girl against her own frame almost desperately, breathing in her scent as though afraid she was going to vanish in the blink of an eye. The brunette clung back just as tightly, marveling at how smooth the blonde's skin was, marveling at how intoxicating it was to be near her, marveling at the fact that this was actually happening.

A chuckle escaped her, brief and choked up, before she started outright laughing. Before she knew it, that laughter had turned to tears, and her words came out sad and shaky.

"Is this real life?" she asked, and Quinn seemed to convulse against her.

It was then that she realized there was hot moisture against the skin of her neck. It was then that she tried to pull away so that she could see the blonde's expression. But the other girl didn't let her go, and instead pressed herself even closer, burying her face against Rachel's shoulder.

Her whole body shook as she spoke. Her voice was heartbreakingly small.

"I can't be gay…" she whispered, choking back her sobs, "I…I just can't be…"

Rachel held on tighter, pulling out her only, feeble defense against those words.

"I like you, Quinn Fabray." she told her quietly, "I really, really do."

* * *

**A/N:** One-shot. I think. Please don't make me write a sequel.

Hope you liked it. It changed course halfway through, from something somewhat humorous and angsty, to something sweet, sad, and painful (for me, at least).

Drop a review if you enjoyed it? Please. D: I'm not above begging. I need feedback, or I can't survive.

PS: Uh. About the last Glee episode... Was I the only one who didn't see that Karofsky thing coming? Jesus, I flipped out (in a, "Holy crap! His character's no longer one-dimensional!" kind of way.) But still. If D. Karofsky's gay, so's Quinn. Fo' sure.

(I think I'm too awkward to say things like that. I should slap myself.)


End file.
